


Gods and Monsters

by Jess_B_Fossil, theangryuniverse



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Christophe Giacometti, Alpha Otabek Altin, Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, If you don't like that then please don't yell at us but simply don't read it, M/M, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Omega Phichit Chulanont, Omega Yuri Plisetsky, Prostitution, Prostitution means they have sex with other people, Romance, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:22:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25094545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess_B_Fossil/pseuds/Jess_B_Fossil, https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangryuniverse/pseuds/theangryuniverse
Summary: It is different in The Gutter. When Victor leaves the life he has always known in the Inner Circle and becomes yet another runaway, he expects squalor- but anything is better than the Capital Proper. The Gutter is different. It is less, but more: Alphas who own restaurants, Omegas who own themselves. It is a community, one where everyone takes care of each other, where every day is spent learning to find yourself. A place without shame.It is a place, Victor thinks, where he could, maybe, finally be free.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Phichit Chulanont/Christophe Giacometti
Comments: 17
Kudos: 62





	Gods and Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> Now this is something VERY different from what we have written so far. We will add tags as we update, and we will try to warn you each time something potentially triggering might appear in a chapter. But we still ask you to check the tags yourself. 
> 
> I (theangryuniverse) had this idea to a dystopian, cyberpunk-like AU while gaming, and so, this idea developed. It is a story of finding your way - what you want from life, what you want from yourself, and what you need in order to be happy. Each chapter will show two perspectives. 
> 
> Our version of omegaverse: Men and women can both be alphas and omegas. Like women, male omegas can have children. Some male omegas have a dick (like Phichit), others (like Yuuri) don't. In this AU, people will be happy with whatever they find in the pants of others. Everything else will be explained in the fic. 
> 
> And now: happy reading!

**_Good Old_ - _Fashioned Lover Boy_**

* * *

Victor cannot breathe. 

It is loud, so incredibly loud, the noises coming from all sides almost deafening. Sounds he has never heard before; the whistling of pipes, the screeching of metal, the rattling of the train tracks above. They bore themselves into his head relentlessly, reaching deeper, and deeper, until they merged into one singular scream of the underworld.

And there is the smell, no, the  _ stink _ . The air is poison, every breath potentially lethal, infiltrating his lungs with what is dead and rotten and out of this world. 

He did not want to come here, but there is nowhere else to go.

The moment he has stumbled out of the train, he has known that he does not belong here, and that he probably never will. The only colour he can see is grey. The facades of the houses are grey, because the fronts are made of metal or corrugated sheet iron. The streets are grey, because they are made of asphalt and covered in dirt and again, partly made of metal and whatever else. Even the sky is grey, although Victor can hardly see it through the polluted air. 

He will most likely never see a blue sky again. 

Victor hugs himself as he makes his way away from the train station that is nothing more but an elevated platform with several stairs leading down to street level. It seems that there are not many people around at this time of the day, neither alphas nor omegas, for Victor sees only a handful of people from where he walks, all of them heading into the other direction. A broken clock on the building opposite to the stairs tells him it is half past one in the afternoon. In the capital, the streets would be filled with people at this time of the day, going shopping, meeting with friends, or going to work or heading home, even. There would be children around at the hands of their nannies. 

At street level, Victor looks around, trying to figure out where to go next. There is only one place he can go to, only one person that would still consort him after everything, and that is Chris. Chris, who has left the capital, just like him, and who has apparently never looked back. Ever since that day, Victor has not heard from him again. But he has remembered his words, his offer, to be always his friend, and to always offer him help. Victor had only laughed, had been sure that he would never need it, for why would he want to leave his life as it was behind?

As it turns out, life can change rather drastically, and rather quickly, at any day. 

But Victor has no idea where exactly Chris is now, or where he works, or what he does. For all that Victor knows he might have as well already died somewhere down here, in one of the many small alleys that make up this maze of metal, concrete, and electronic wires. 

Victor realises he will have to ask around. 

Even here on street level, the wind is cold, and Victor hugs himself to keep himself at least somewhat warm. He has not brought a coat, as it has been rather warm in the capital. It is actually never cold there, as the climate control center makes sure it’s always at a pleasant temperature. But here, there is no climate control, and the wasteland is not too far away anymore, and its cold winds have found its way into these streets. 

Victor ducks into one of the alleys he’s seen the other people go into, where he suspects some shops will be waiting. Shops, yes, shops sound promising. People doing their work, people he can talk to, people he can ask for directions.

But Victor realises quickly that there are no shops. And if there are, they are not open. The shutters are down, the neon signs turned off, doors heavily locked. It is dark in the alley, and also in the next, and Victor begins to wonder if he has ended up in an abandoned part. Perhaps this is even a contaminated one, one of those he has heard of on the news. Panic grips him and he holds his breath in an instant, as if to keep whatever it is that might be lethal out of his system. But then he hears the sound of wheels, the sound of a motor, and in the distance, a motor bike races down the road. And another, and another.

_ People _ , Victor thinks in relief, and starts walking again.

At the end of the alley, the slums open up into a bigger space. In its centre stands what used to be a fountain, in it no water anymore, but on its edge sit people. Men, all of them, hands in their pockets as they talk quietly. The moment they see him they stop talking, eyeing him suspiciously, and before Victor can approach them, they have walked away, have retreated into one of the alleys, into the dark. 

Victor pauses, the place so eerily quiet that there must be something wrong about it, that there is not a single person to be seen now. He looks around, and peeks into the alleys, and knows that he has to keep going. 

There simply must be someone willing to talk to him. Just for a moment. 

Above him, the sky gets darker, as if bad weather is coming, and Victor shivers. He is not used to being cold, and his jacket, light and fashionable, does little to keep him warm. The wind is not as bad in the alleys as it is on the open spaces, and for a moment, Victor wonders if he should simply sit down somewhere, yes, even on the ground, and wait. Just wait. 

But the deeper he goes into this maze, the more he realises that he is, in fact, being watched. He can feel eyes on his back, knows that there are others around, watching him and his every move. After a while, he can see them, too. Men and women in torn, revealing clothing, but mostly men. All of them omegas. They appear from behind doors and windows, from behind corners, like predators circling their prey with never-ending patience, only waiting for the right moment to strike. 

Suddenly, a pale hand comes to rest on his arm, and Victor spins around. A woman, white as a sheet and with purple shadows under her dead eyes, smiles at him. “Got lost, darling?”

Victor opens his mouth, but before he can speak, another hand touches him, this time on the other arm. A man, dark-skinned and with eyes just as equally dead. “You’ve really gotten lost, pretty thing,” he hums, looking Victor up and down with all the time in the world. “Has the bird flown from its cage now?”

“Oh, what a dear,” another omega says, and Victor cannot tell if they are male or female as they approach him, touching his jacket. “Such a well-dressed specimen. Took the wrong train, eh?”

Victor stumbles back, frees himself from their grasp, only to be met with laughter. Now they are indeed everywhere, he realises, all coming out of the shadows, closer and closer. 

“I could eat for a whole month for the price of that jacket.”

“That’s a pretty watch you’ve got there.”

“The hair, though…”

“Come on, dearie, why are you making such a fuss? Feeling better than the rest of us?”

Suddenly, a shrill, piercing sound rings through the air, and Victor, just like everyone else, turns around. Before he knows what is going on he is facing yet another omega, tall, slim, and blonde, with the longest legs Victor has ever seen. But the omega is not facing him, but all the others, barking at them as if he - because he is undoubtedly male - knew no shame, and couldn’t care less about his gender. 

“The fuck is this that you can’t even walk down a fucking street in peace?” He snaps. “Go and get your shit elsewhere.”

Then, the omega stops before Victor, who is stunned into silence, and looks him up and down. “Jesus fucking Christ,” the omega mutters and grabs him by the wrist, as if he were a child, and drags him along. “You really could be a fucking lit up Christmas tree and stand out less.”

And for some reason, no one follows them as the omega drags him out of the alley, and around several corners. “Coming to the whore lane in broad daylight, who does he even think he is,” the omega mutters, more to himself than to anyone else.

“Please,” Victor says, and his voice is terribly hoarse. “I’m looking for--”

“Shut the fuck up, will you?” The omega snaps, and Victor, who has never seen an omega act like that before, is so stunned that he does just that. The omega keeps going, dragging him along around several corners until they arrive at what looks like a surprisingly normal street, a street with shops, and restaurants, and actual people. Normal people.

There, the omega lets go of him with a disapproving snort. 

“Thank you,” Victor says. “I--”

“How the fuck could you get lost like that?” The omega interrupts him. “Whatever. Stay away from the whore lane.”

He turns around and begins to walk away.

“Wait!” Victor calls and runs after him. “Wait, please! I’m looking for someone!”

“Can’t help you, old man,” the omega snaps. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

“Please, his name is Christophe Giacometti, he’s my-”

The omega turns around a lot more gracefully than Victor would have thought, his eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“Say that again.”

Victor swallows thickly. “I’m looking for Christophe Giacometti. He’s my friend.”

The omega keeps looking at him as if not quite sure whether to believe him or not, but why should he lie about being Chris’ friend?

“Chris Giacometti,” the omega repeats, stuffing his hands into the tiny pockets of his hotpants. “Tall, blonde, green eyes-”

“Yes!” Victor breathes and steps forward. “Please, do you know him?”

The omega hesitates for a moment. Then, he lets out a long, frustrated groan. 

“Oh, this fucker is so going to pay for this.”

And then, he grabs Victor’s wrist again and pulls him along down the street.

“So you know Chris?” Victor can hardly believe it. “Where is he? How is he doing? Is he alright? What did he--”

“Oh my fucking God, do you always talk so much?” The omega groans and glares at him over his shoulder, not even stopping for a second as they cross the street and enter yet another alley. But this one is broader, a little cleaner, than the ones Victor has wandered through so far. “But yes. Everyone knows Chris,” the omega eventually adds. “He pays well.”

“He-” Victor takes a good look at the omega, takes in his appearance, the revealing clothes, the make-up, everything. “Chris-”

“I’ve seen plenty of that man’s ass,” the omega mutters. “Don’t need to see more.”

“Wha-”

They abruptly turn around a corner, and Victor suddenly finds himself standing in front of a tall, narrow building. A couple of stairs lead up to a metal door that stands ajar, and from the inside comes the most heavenly smell. There is a neon sign above the door, but at this time of the day, it is turned off. 

“Oi, princess.”

The omega has reached the door, a hand on the handle. “Coming now or not?”

Victor has no other choice but to follow the omega into whatever this shop is - a restaurant, most likely. But in such a narrow place?

The moment Victor steps inside, he realises that his assumption was correct. It is a restaurant, the smallest he has ever seen. A long, grubby-looking counter that is lined with stools takes up most of the space, leaving only a narrow alley between the counter and the wooden wall that is covered in various posters and stickers. Self-made shelves have been nailed to the wall on the other side of the counter, on them the most ridiculous array of technical gimmicks. At the bar, only one chair is currently occupied - a young man with dark hair and glasses, reading in a book. Behind the counter stands a short, stocky alpha with the most stoic expression that Victor has ever seen. His hair is brown, cut short at the sides, and his arms are crossed over his muscular chest as he leans against an old fridge, watching whatever it is that they are cooking in this place. Of all the things that could have surprised Victor, it is the apron the alpha wears that catches his eye, for he has never seen an alpha dressed like  _ that. _

“Eh, Beka,” the omega says and pulls out a banknote, slapping it onto the counter with force. “Give him something that will shut his mouth, okay?”

The man behind the counter, whose name is apparently Beka, raises an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you in three days,” he says. 

“Yeah, whatever, hello Otabek, yes, I’ve been fine, blergh,” the omega mutters and sits down on one of the chairs. “Oi, princess. Sit down.”

Victor blinks, needing a moment before he does as he is told and sits down on one of the stools that looks like it will collapse under his weight any second. 

“Care to explain?” The man called Otabek asks. “You usually don’t bring clients of yours to this place, Yuri.”

The omega, whose name is apparently Yuri, gags. “What the fuck? He isn’t my client. Ran into him at the corner of whore lane. Says he’s looking for Chris.”

Now that seems to spark Otabek’s interest, even if only mildly. He looks Victor up and down before he reaches for a bowl and fills it with what appears to be long noodles, eggs, strips of meat, and broth. Then, he sets it down on the counter before Victor. “I’ll call him.”

Victor, who is still speechless, barely manages to nod. 

“Hungry, Yura?” 

“Nah.”

“Gotcha.”

Although the omega has declined, a second bowl is placed before him, filled with just the same things. Then, the alpha behind the counter wipes his hands on his apron before grabbing an old smartphone from the shelf and disappearing into a back room. 

For now, the only sounds are the noises of the eating omega next to him, and the quiet simmering of whatever it is in the pot on the stove.

“For fucks sake, eat before it gets cold,” Yuri mutters, just as Otabek comes back for a second, the phone pressed against his ear.

“What did you say your name was?”

“Victor,” Victor says, and it feels like that is the only thing he has left. His name. 

Otabek nods and disappears into the back room again.

“That’s some weird ass old people’s name,” Yuri remarks, stuffing the noodles into his mouth. “Fits the grey hair.”

Usually, Victor would immediately respond that it is not grey but actually silver, like his mother’s, but he does not find it in himself to talk back. Never before has he been so alone, and so far away from home, surrounded by strangers whom he has no other choice but trust.

Otabek comes back, leaving the phone on the counter. “Chris is on his way,” he says before lifting the lid of the pot to check its content.

“Thank you,” Victor breathes. “I…”

But Otabek merely makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. “A couple more minutes,” he says to the other customer in the back before he leans against the fridge again and crosses his arms, the very picture of domesticity. “Not hungry?” He asks, eyeing the untouched bowl before Victor.

“I doubt he knows what ramen is,” Yuri snickers beside him.

Otabek smirks, barely. “It’s literally just noodle soup with chicken and eggs,” he says. “I’m not gonna poison you.”

“I might,” Yuri remarks.

“I know you would, Yura,” Otabek says and pulls out a shiny spoon, placing it beside the chopsticks on the counter. “Eat. You’ll feel better.”

Victor blushes and picks up the chopsticks, as he knows how to eat with those, and begins to eat. And by god, it is delicious. His eyes widen in surprise, and Yuri laughs.

“Eat as much as you want,” Otabek says. “Where are you from? The capital?”

Victor swallows his mouthful of ramen, almost burning his throat. “Y-Yes,” he breathes and coughs, to which Otabek responds by passing him a glass of water. “I mean-- the inner circle that-”

“I know that technically, everything here is the capital,” Otabek interrupts him calmly. “But this place here is the Gutter. Not the capital.”

“R-right…” Victor nods. “I’m… I’m from the inner circle.”

“Thought so,” Yuri huffs. “Turning up here dressed like Lady ChaCha. The whores were at his throat as if he were made of cocaine.”

“That must have been a long way down here, then,” Otabek says. “You got off the train at the wrong station, though. One station later and you would have ended up just around the corner. Not near whore lane.”

“I didn’t know that,” Victor admits and puts the chopsticks down. “I just… tried to get here.”

“Don’t go near whore lane, ever,” Yuri tells him, gesturing dramatically with his chopsticks. “Not during the day, not during the night, especially not dressed like that. Like, is that  _ fucking silk? _ ”

Before Victor can reply, the door bursts open behind them and a man stumbles in; a man that is just as tall and gorgeous as Victor remembers him, his green, beautiful eyes wide in shock, and his hand grasping the grubby counter for support. “Victor!”

They are in each other’s arms in an instant, and for the first time, Victor realises that he has made it out alive. That he is alive, and well, and that he has found the one person left to care about him in the world. Chris, whom he has thought to have lost forever, since the day Chris has left the capital to pursue his happiness elsewhere. 

Everyone knows that once you leave the capital, you can never return. 

Chris is the first to pull away, and he beams at Victor with tears in his eyes. It has been too long, far too long since they have last seen each other, but despite everything, Victor has to admit that Chris looks good. There is a healthy colour in his cheeks, and although he is dressed like a noble delinquent, it is so undeniably  _ Chris.  _

“I can’t believe you are here,” Chris says, still a little out of breath. “Victor, what happened?”

Victor does not know where to even start, and Chris seems to realise that the moment the words come out of his mouth. “You know what, let’s just focus on the present, yes?” Chris suggests, and Victor realises his old friend knows him far too well. Other people might be able to talk just right away, but Victor feels as if something has constricted his tongue and keeps him from telling the truth. 

“You didn’t get hurt on the way?” Chris asks.

Yuri snorts. “Got him out of whore lane before they could eat him alive.”

Chris frowns. “Where the hell did you get off the train?”

“The wrong station, they told me,” Victor says, shivering at the mere thought of the omegas that have touched him, omegas with pale skin and dead eyes. “This… this young gentleman helped me to get here.” He gestures at Yuri, who almost chokes on his food.

Chris chuckles. “Doesn’t happen very often that someone calls you a young gentleman, eh, Yuri?” He says, patting the omega’s back. Otabek wordlessly passes him a glass of water. “Thank you for taking care of him. You too, Otabek.”

Otabek makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. “It’s all good.”

Chris sighs. “Well… I guess we should go somewhere where we can talk,” he says to Victor, pulling out a crisp banknote and leaving it on the counter. 

“Welcome to the gutter, princess,” Yuri says through a mouthful of noodles.

“Now that’s a nicer welcome than the one I got from him,” Chris hummed, putting an arm around Victor’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” Victor says to Otabek. “For the food and everything. I will try to return the favour.”

Otabek shrugs. “See you around.”

Only as they step out of the ramen shop Victor realises how cold it is outside, and how warm and cosy it has been in the restaurant. They walk for a few minutes in complete silence. And then, all of a sudden, Chris stops, and pulls him into a hug. 

“Victor, I don’t even know how to express how worried I was when I got Otabek’s call,” Chris says before pulling away again. “I didn’t want to believe it was you.”

Victor manages a sad, weak smile. “I wish it wasn’t me either,” he says. “But I didn’t know where else to go.”

Chris studies him for a long moment, his beautiful face adorned with a worried frown. “You wouldn’t leave the capital behind just like that if there wasn’t a damn good reason. Victor, what happened?”

In short, a lot.

The long story feels far too big, far too much to tell just now. 

“Victor.” Chris takes him by the arms, and shakes him to get his full attention. “You know that you can never go back, right? Once you leave the capital, you cannot return. Are you aware of this, Victor?”

“I am,” Victor says weakly and nods, although only barely. “I… I knew of the consequences of my actions.”

The moment Victor had boarded the train heading downwards, he had known that he would be leaving this life behind for good. He had not known what exactly would await him, or if he would even find Chris. It had been the greatest risk of his life.

Chris knows this, too. 

“Let us go home, Victor,” he says. “You’ll stay with me. Okay?”

Victor manages a nod.

* * *

The house is quiet as Yuuri gets up, carefully shutting the door to the room he shares with Phichit. He does not want to wake his friend, who has occupied their bed spread out like a starfish now, peacefully snoring away. It has been a long night of work, and although Yuuri has gone to bed around five in the morning, he is up again shortly after noon, and unable to fall asleep again. Reading next to a snoring person is awfully distracting, and Yuuri is hungry, and could do with a warm meal. And so, he gets dressed, shoves his book into a bag, and leaves quietly.

Everyone is still asleep at this time of the day, and it will be so for at least two or three more hours until the first inhabitants of the  _ Maison Minako _ get up. It is by far not the only brothel in the Gutter, but it is one of the better ones - and the exact opposite of the miserable places that make up whore lane. Drugs are strictly prohibited, and so is alcohol (except for the small amount Minako allows them to share with a customer). Every visitor pays a small fee at the door, and only if the doorman finds the alphas sober and sound of mind, they are granted admission. 

Said doorman nods at Yuuri as he walks out of the door and steps onto the deserted, quiet street. Only a few people are around at this time of the day, for this is the amusement district that comes to life at night, but for a walk, this time is ideal. Sometimes, Phichit comes with him, and they share a large bowl of ramen at Otabek’s shop. But today, Yuuri is glad to be alone, just to clear his head for a while. He can still get some more sleep after he has eaten. 

Otabek’s shop is a few streets away, near the bookshop of his sister. Although the neon sign is turned off, Yuuri knows that the restaurant is open. Otabek only ever closes between three in the morning and noon. Officially, the shop opens in the late afternoon, but he is there nonetheless. 

Yuuri pushes the door open, breathing in the heavenly scent of the broth that Otabek is famous for. The man himself stands behind the counter and chops carrots, only looking up as the door falls shut again. 

“Morning,” he says. “You’re early.”

“I can come back later if you want.”

Otabek makes a dismissive gesture with his hand before looking down again. “Take a seat. If you want the usual, though, you have to wait till I’m done with the meat and everything.”

“I can wait,” Yuuri assures him and moves to sit down in his favourite corner of the tiny shop, at the very end of the long counter. “Is Yuri here?”

Otabek shakes his head, tossing the carrots into a pot. “Still out.”

Yuuri pulls out his book and puts it on the counter. “I’ve seen him near the park a few times. He’s changed locations?”

“I suppose.” Otabek brings him a glass of water. “I’d still feel better if he worked under Minako.”

“I can talk to him again if you want,” Yuuri offers. “Minako would be happy to have him.”

Otabek sighs and leans against the grubby counter for a moment. “We both know that Yura isn’t easily convinced of giving up his freedom.”

Yuuri cannot help but smile at that. “Indeed. He’s a free spirit.”

Otabek snorts. “Free spirit,” he mutters. “Stubborn. An idiot.”

“The love of your life,” Yuuri adds softly.

Otabek shakes his head in disbelief and turns back to the simmering pots and pans on the stove. “I could kill him sometimes.”

To others, Otabek and Yuri usually make a very odd pair. But to Yuuri, they are perfect for each other. He smiles to himself and opens his book again, sipping his water and reading in peaceful silence, the only sounds coming from the stove behind the counter. 

At least twenty minutes must have passed as the door opens again, and this time, a very familiar face walks in. Yuri, however, is not facing them, not even greeting Otabek, but looking back outside. “Oi, princess,” the omega says in annoyance. “Coming in now or not?”

The person that follows is simply the most stunning alpha Yuuri has ever seen. At the same time, he has never seen a man with an expression sadder, or more lost, than this one. 

A runaway. Yet another one. 

Yuuri turns away, not wanting to intrude, and focuses on his book. Of course, he cannot completely ignore what is being said, and catches a few words here and there. The alpha knows Chris, it seems, and Otabek goes to call him. 

“A couple more minutes,” he hears Otabek say to him about his own order, before turning towards his boyfriend and the stranger again, whose name is apparently Victor. 

It does not take long for Chris to arrive, and what follows is yet another scene that Yuuri would rather not witness out of sheer politeness. The alpha called Victor thanks Otabek for the food before leaving with Chris, who has apparently not even spotted Yuuri sitting in the corner, but Yuuri is glad to be left alone for now. 

Only as Otabek puts a bowl with his favourite ramen order before him, he closes his book.

“Ever seen a guy like that?” Otabek asks him, nodding at the door through which Chris and his friend have just left.

“I didn’t look at him that much,” Yuuri admits. “But that was rather good clothing.”

“That was fucking silk,” Yuri says and turns around on his stool. “Why are you sitting so far away, katsudon?”

“Alright, alright,” Yuuri chuckles and slips from the chair, taking his food to the other end of the counter to take a seat next to the other omega. “A friend of Chris’, then?”

“Seems so,” Otabek says. “I wonder what made him come here. Did he say something to you?” He looks at his boyfriend.

“To be honest, I don’t fucking care,” Yuri replies and shoves another load of ramen into his mouth. “I waf juft on fe way home-”

“Yura.”

Yuri swallows. “I was just on the way home when he caused a fucking scene in whore lane.”

“Speaking of,” Otabek says, crossing his arms. “What were you doing near whore lane?”

Yuri narrows his eyes. “Why.”

“It’s not the safest of places, that’s why,” Otabek says calmly.

“What are you gonna do, stop me?”

Otabek gives him a look that others would have called utterly expressionless. “Just take care,” he says and then turns away to look after the food on the stove. 

“Looks like a fucking princess, that guy,” Yuri mutters. “And you, katsudon? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Yuuri shrugs in between bites. “I woke up and couldn’t fall asleep again. Phichit is a snorer.”

“Tell him I’ve said hi,” the omega says and promptly yawns, resting his chin on his palm. “When you’re starting again?”

“Around eight, I think,” Yuuri replies. “Minako sends her regards, by the way.”

“Tell the hag I don’t want to work for her,” Yuri says in annoyance. “Not now, not ever.”

“I know, and I will,” Yuuri chuckles and then continues with his meal before it gets cold. “Oh, speaking of Phichit. Otabek, do you have any-”

“Sure,” Otabek says and reaches under the counter, pulling out a box with freshly baked melon pan. “How many?”

“I think two will do.”

“Give me one, too,” Yuri demands, but Otabek has already put one on a plate for him. It always fascinates Yuuri how incredibly well they fit together. And how very unusual both of them are. Not many alphas would be satisfied with a life as a ramen shop owner, cooking and serving customers all day. And even less alphas would tolerate their omega boyfriend working as a hooker. But Otabek and Yuri are perfect examples of what the Gutter makes of people if they allow themselves to forget about the rules. 

They don’t care what anyone thinks of them. 

It is indeed something to admire.

But to stop caring what anyone else might think is what one needs in order to survive in this place. Yuuri has learnt this a long time ago, when he had been forced to leave his home behind and look for a new life, far away from the Wasteland where he has grown up. 

“Thank you for the meal,” Yuuri says once he is done and leaves a few coins on the counter. “Oh, Phichit told me to ask you if you could fix his broken phone display. It’s become unusable now.”

Otabek takes the money and nods. “Sure. He can bring it over anytime.”

“Thank you.” Yuuri slips from the stool and takes his bag. “Yuri, I’ll see you at Yuuko’s?”

“Yeah.” Yuri shrugs. “See ya.”

Yuuri waves at Otabek before walking out the door, and he is sure that he can hear another lovers’ quarrel begin before the door falls shut. 

By the time Yuuri makes it back to the  _ Maison Minako,  _ it is shortly past two in the afternoon. As expected, Phichit is still asleep, lying on his back and snoring peacefully as Yuuri enters. He closes the door quietly and sets down the bag with melon pan on Phichit’s messy dressing table before he begins to strip, taking off his shirt and jeans as well as his underwear before getting into bed beside the other omega. Phichit immediately shifts, instinctively wrapping himself around Yuuri like an octopus and burying his face in his neck with a soft groan.

“Where you been,” he mumbles sleepily as Yuuri pulls the blanket up to cover them both. 

“Otabek’s,” Yuuri whispers back and wraps his arms around Phichit in return. “Go back to sleep.”

“Hmmm…”

Phichit is asleep again within minutes, but Yuuri stays awake for a little longer, breathing in the scent of his friend, his brother, his lover. Phichit has been his everything since the day he came to Minako, looking for work, and Phichit had been there to welcome him. He had been the one to teach Yuuri the craft, had been the one to take care of him, to get used to this life, and to take pride in what he does. Phichit is his best friend, his everything, and in many ways, the other half of his soul, and they share the deepest of bonds that two omegas could possibly have. 

Not many are that fortunate. 

When Yuuri wakes again, it is past six in the evening, and the  _ Maison Minako _ is slowly coming to life. As Yuuri puts on his glasses, he finds Phichit already sitting at his dressing table in his favourite red robe, the open bag of melon pan on his lap as he does his make up for the night. 

“Yuuri!” He cheers as he spots him through the mirror and turns around on the chair. “Thank you for the melon pan!”

“You’re welcome,” Yuuri yawns and slowly sits up. “I shouldn’t get up and then go back to sleep. It only makes getting up harder.”

“Time to make other things hard, then,” Phichit grins and shoves another piece of melon pan into his mouth before turning back to the mirror again to continue with his make up. Yuuri chuckles and gets out of bed, running a hand through Phichit’s hair as he walks past him to the small bathroom that they share. 

“Isn’t it time for your period?” Phichit calls through the open door as Yuuri steps into the shower. 

“Not yet,” Yuuri calls back and turns on the water, immediately stepping back to avoid the first gush of cold water before it reaches a proper temperature. It’s one of the many issues with this old house, but having to wait for warm water is a small nuisance compared to what problems the people in the Gutter usually face. Yuuri showers quickly and wraps himself into a towel, coming back into the room to find Phichit lounging on the bed with his phone, hair and makeup now ready and as beautiful as ever. The red robe, Phichit’s clear favourite, looks fantastic on him. Paired with Phichit’s winning personality and his shameless, wicked sense of humour, it makes him one of Minako’s most popular boys. 

But right now, he is pouting, and holds out his phone. “I want to like this picture but the display stopped working!” He whines. Yuuri flops down beside him.

“Otabek said he can fix it for you any time.” Yuuri rests his chin on his hand. “What’s the picture?”

“Leo posted a picture of Guang Hong’s new make up!” 

“Phichit, they literally have the room next to ours. You can tell them yourself.”

“But that’s not the same!” Phichit cries and dramatically throws himself on Yuuri, kissing him on the lips. “It’s like I don’t even know you, Yuuri! Have I taught you nothing about the noble art of social media?”

Yuuri chuckles. “You mean your weekend workshop on how to become instagram famous as a prostitute of the old and noble  _ Maison Minako _ ?”

Phichit rolls his eyes. “Don’t make fun of me, mister. One has to give the fans something to look at in order to keep them happy. Look how many likes I got for my last picture from Chris’ bath house!” He taps around on his phone with a frustrated groan, tossing it aside as it refuses to work. “Ugh, I really need to get it fixed.”

“You will survive,” Yuuri assures him and kisses him. Phichit happily responds, melting into the kiss shared between lovers and brothers, for Yuuri is his everything just as he is Yuuri’s. If the world let them, they would stay in this room forever, in this bed, indulging in each other. They are each other’s favourite, taking care of the other, comforting each other with the warmth of their bodies, bringing the other to the heights of pleasure. If they had the time, they would do so right now, and Yuuri can feel that Phichit is very much in the mood, feeling Phichit’s hardness where he himself is growing wet under the other omega’s touch. 

Their differences in both personality and anatomy make them a good pair. 

What a shame, Yuuri thinks not for the first time as he kisses Phichit, that neither of them is an alpha, and that Phichit’s seed will never fall on fertile ground. 

“Uh-oh.” Yuuri breaks the kiss and sits up, a hand on his belly. “I think my period is early.”

Phichit rolls off him and laughs. “There’s a free day for you!” He calls out as Yuuri rushes to the bathroom. “Can’t say I envy you!”

“Yeah, you only get extremely tired, that’s not fair,” Yuuri mutters behind the closed bathroom door. “I never understood why there have to be two types of omegas. And why one of us only gets sleepy once a month while the other bleeds through sheets…”

“You got to ask Yuuko for that,” Phichit gives back and sighs, rolling around on the bed. “Oh, I hope Chris is coming today. He said he’d come to see me again soon.”

“Oh, I don’t think he’ll come today,” Yuuri replies, flushes the toilet and washes his hands before he comes out into the room again. “He came to Otabek’s place to pick up a runaway from the capital. I think they were good friends some time ago.”

“Huh.” Phichit raises an eyebrow. “A runaway from the capital? That doesn’t happen often. An omega?”

“An alpha,” Yuuri says, and Phichit immediately sits up.

“An alpha?!”

“Yes.”

“Why would the crown of creation leave such a privileged place?”

“Is that what you call your customers? The crown of creation?”

Phichit shrugs nonchalantly. “I tell them what they like to hear. But really? An alpha runaway? Did he say why he ran away? He must have had a damn good reason.”

Yuuri shakes his head. “He didn’t say anything like that. I think he was just glad to be in a safe place. Yuri saved him from the poor souls in whore lane.”

“Oh, wow,” Phichit says and lets out a whistle. “I wouldn’t want to be there as an alpha.”

“You can imagine how shaken he was, then,” Yuuri says and sits down beside him on the bed. “I’m sure the next time Chris comes here, he will tell you everything. He’s terribly smitten with you.”

Phichit shrieks and blushes immediately, hiding his face behind his hands. “He’s not! He’s not!”

“Oh he is!” Yuuri laughs, hugging Phichit and almost throwing them both off the bed. “Bringing you gifts, never letting you pay for the bath house! That’s an alpha courting you!”

“He’s not!” Phichit cries out with laughter, and this time they do fall off the bed, hitting the floor with a loud  _ thump. _

“Ouch!” 

But they are both laughing, and Yuuri hopes, hopes so much that despite everything, Chris will come, just to see Phichit happy. There are little joys in the life of a prostitute that lives in the Gutter, but having a favourite customer that is good and kind and generous is one of them. 

“Alright, alright, I better get ready before Minako comes up to get me,” Phichit says and gets up from the floor, pulling Yuuri up with him before he fixes his robe and goes to comb his hair once more. Despite their messing around, he still looks like the epitome of seduction, his makeup fresh and how it’s supposed to be. 

“What are you going to do with your free evening?” Phichit asks Yuuri, who has grabbed his own clothes and begun to put them on. 

“I’ll finish this book on the roof,” Yuuri says, nodding at the book on top of his bag. “And then I’ll maybe visit Yuuko. I haven’t seen the triplets in a while.”

Phichit sighs, reapplying his lipstick. “I wish I could come with you.”

“I’ll tell them how much you miss them.”

“That’s not the same!”

“Indeed, it isn’t.” Now dressed, Yuuri puts on his shoes and goes to peck Phichit’s cheek. “Have fun. I hope you get some good clients tonight that appreciate your art.”

“You know that’s what I’m good at,” Phichit says with a wink. “I giveth and I taketh.”

And with that, he is out of the door, and Yuuri is alone.

With his book in hand, Yuuri leaves the room after him, but instead of going down the stairs, he goes up, heading towards the roof. His friends greet him on the way, some of them getting ready, others of them resting today, just like him, but all of them going at their own pace. It is one of the things that makes the  _ Maison Minako _ a good place to live. Every omega here can decide when to work, and for how long, and with whom. All of them came here voluntarily, and they are all free to leave again whenever they want. But most of them stay, and they stay because of the roof above their heads, because of the warm beds and the food, and because of the medical care that Minako provides for all of them. They get to keep thirty percent of a night’s work, which is more than most hookers make in a week - with the exception of people like Yuri Plisetsky, perhaps. 

Yuuri has come here because he has had Minako’s address in his pocket - given to him by his mother, as a final gift. And Minako has taken him in, and Yuuri has not once gone hungry nor touch-starved since. For omegas need other omegas to survive, and that is what drives the lonely ones, the less fortunate ones, into places like whore lane, where they dumb their pain with drugs. 

It is one of the reasons why Minako forbids drugs, and all the other things that might harm them. She forbids drugs just as she forbids surrogacy; the last resort for many poor, unfortunate souls that need money. There have been far too many omegas found in the poisoned rivers, throats cut through and their bodies mutilated for alphas who don’t want to pay for the child they had them carry. 

Here, in the Gutter, a lone omega is in constant danger. 

Minako’s house is a safe place.

She takes care of them all. All they have to do in return is to work. 

There are worse things in the world than to be a prostitute.

On the roof, where they often watch the stars, Yuuri sits down with his book and continues to read. After a while, he lights himself a cigarette, the only ‘drug’ that Minako tolerates. It is a bad habit, but these cigarettes are not like the ones people used in the past. They bring relief, but don’t fuck up your lungs. 

Perfect for a night like this, when Yuuri feels like his insides are destroying themselves. 

It does not take that long for the door to the roof to open and for Phichit to join him - perhaps only an hour, but Phichit already looks dishevelled and exhausted.

“Good lord, what a start into the night!” Phichit flops down beside him and grabs a cigarette from the pack. “The guy wanted me to suck him off first and then told me to ride him, and I told him that this doesn’t work that way, and he goes ‘Oooh you should see my stamina!’ Well, guess what happened.” Phichit shakes his head and lights the cigarette. “He sat there awkwardly and couldn’t get it up. Now what do you tell an alpha that runs a drug cartel and is used to getting everything he wants?” He rolls his eyes. “And then he starts talking about his wife! Can you believe that?”

“They all think they are the greatest,” Yuuri agrees and closes his book. 

“You know, that’s why I like Chris,” Phichit continues and takes a drag. “He doesn’t pretend to be the big bad alpha with endless stamina - I mean, he has stamina, believe me - but he is honest. A honest alpha, you know? I know it sounds crazy, but that’s how he is. He’s a genuinely good guy.” 

He leans against Yuuri with a sigh. “I wish he would come tonight…”

Yuuri gently nudges him with his elbow. “I’m sure he will come tomorrow. When he’s sorted things out with his runaway friend.”

“I hope so,” Phichit whines. “I like him so. He’s… he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me in this place. Besides you, of course,” he immediately adds and looks up at Yuuri. “And really, Yuuri, I want you to meet someone like that, too! Someone to dream about.”

“Believe me, Phichit, I’m fine.”

“But just think of it!” Phichit exclaims and grabs his hand. “To have something so good happening to you.”

“Come on,” Yuuri laughs. “Don’t be daft. Nothing ever happens to me. I will live and die in this place, and I will be content with my books, and with my friends. I have good things in my life already. What other good thing could possibly come to me?”

As it turns out, a good thing might also be a good person.

**Author's Note:**

> Let us know what you think!


End file.
